


shackled in a prison of your own making

by tallycravens



Category: Teenage Bounty Hunters (TV)
Genre: F/F, Ouch this really hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26706241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tallycravens/pseuds/tallycravens
Summary: On the night of the lock-in, April pushes Sterling away, because it's what she has to do. But it's not what she wants. A look into the internal struggle going on in April's mind in 1x09.
Relationships: April Stevens/Sterling Wesley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	shackled in a prison of your own making

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure this has already been done before, but this is my first foray into this fandom and I thought delving into April's brain might be an interesting place to start. If you like it, please leave a comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts & the feedback would encourage me to keep writing for this pair.

You don’t like the person you are right now, sitting there pretending like you didn’t promise Sterling a spot next to you at the lock-in. She’s frowning at you, visibly hurt, but you can’t budge from this because everyone’s watching the two of you. But stubbornly enough, she’s not going anywhere. That’s why when Luke joins you, you try a new tactic, even though the thought of actually flirting with him, fake or not, makes your stomach turn. After a minute or so, you look over at Sterling and see that she’s watching the two of you in abject horror. Now you know that it’s working, so you keep up the banter, quote a little Star Wars, and she slowly begins to lose her shit as you and her ex laugh together like old friends. This is probably her own personal Hell.

“April, I need to speak to you right now!” She’s practically shouting at you and you can barely meet her shattered gaze because you know that you’re killing her and you hate yourself for it, but you don’t have a choice. She makes some last ditch effort, finding an excuse that you need to talk about the scavenger hunt. It could be a perfectly legitimate excuse so that you can get her alone and explain, but instead you brush her off, saying it’ll work itself out. 

The truth of the matter is that you don’t trust yourself around her. If you talk to her, you might give in and end up holding her hand like both of you planned. The phrase  _ this is for the best  _ repeats like a mantra in your head, but you don’t quite know if you believe it. You hate being this cruel, yet it comes so naturally to you. That’s what scares you the most. As she stomps off, you bite back your tears, knowing this is neither the time nor the place. But the twisting in your stomach feels like a knife and your chest is so heavy that you can barely breathe. You’ve gotten so good at faking it, so good it’s scary, and you almost believe you’re going to be okay.

That misguided belief lasts all of a few seconds until you can feel the guilt bubbling up in your stomach. You know that after the way you’ve just treated her, she’ll be trying to leave, but the lock-in is quite literal, and every door is locked, leaving her no way out. No way out but your key. The irony isn’t lost on you. 

Just as you predicted, Sterling had run to the door, sobbing as she realized that it’s locked. You know that she must feel trapped and that she wants out. You know that feeling better than anyone. You might be good at pretending, but you’re not evil. You can’t bear to see her like this. As she falls to her knees on the floor, you finally make your way down to her, cooly unlocking the padlock so that you can set her free. You can feel her uncertain gaze fall onto you as you twist the chain from the lock and after you let her out, you abandon your good judgment and follow behind, because you owe her something. She deserves an explanation. Even you can’t be that cruel. Not to  _ her. Not anymore. _

“Sterling!” You shout after her as she practically runs away from you. You can’t blame her for her reaction, but you can feel yourself beginning to panic at the thought of not being able to explain yourself. _ “Sterling, wait.” _ She just keeps walking so you grab her arm, forcing her to stop. “Hey,” you say sharply as she spins around to meet your gaze, looking hurt and confused like a puppy you’ve just kicked the living shit out of. It hurts to see her like this, because you want to kill anyone who’d ever dare hurt her, but painfully enough, it’s you who’s done the hurting. “Will you sit with me?” You plead, knowing her well enough to know she’ll agree, even if she hates you right now. Because that’s just the kind of person Sterling Wesley is. A better person than you’ll ever be.

Those beautiful eyes are filled with tears as she hesitates, then defeatedly sinks down onto the bench. Those tears are your punishment, your reminder of all you’re losing, because you know she’ll never look at you the same way after this. You take a shaky breath, tuck your hair behind your ear like you’re preparing for war and you sit, quietly trying to gather your thoughts so that you can try to explain why you’re behaving this way. You muse in pained silence as you stare at the ground, feeling her gaze burn into you as she asks the question you’ve been waiting for. 

“What is  **wrong** with you?” _ Everything,  _ you want to say, but your mouth has gone dry. “What was all that flirting with Luke?” You flirted with him because you knew what would hurt her the most. That’s why you chose him, to push her away, but you can’t tell her that. Maybe it worked a little too well, you realize under her unrelenting stare.

After a moment, you say the words out loud. “I’m not ready to come out,” you admit, the words dropping like lead from your lips.

She sighs. “I don’t get you. What changed?”

Again, you want to say  _ everything _ , because it had all changed in an instant. But you know there’s no going back. Not right now, and probably not for a long time, if ever. You’re looking into her eyes, wishing that you had the power to take her pain away, to be what she  _ wants _ you to be, but you can’t. You’re not like Sterling. Your parents aren’t like Sterling’s parents. You’re not brave like she is. Not even brave enough to talk to her like a decent human being in front of anyone else. Not even brave enough to be friends, because people will suspect something.  _ Pathetic,  _ you think, because she deserves better than this, than you.

“I changed my mind,” your face falters as she looks at you incredulously, and you feel the need to defend yourself. “It’s allowed,” you say, but you’re not sure that it is, because she’s looking at you differently, like she’s not quite sure this is really happening. 

She doesn’t understand and she clearly needs more of an explanation, because what happens next  _ can’t _ happen, and she apparently doesn’t get that. “But I thought we-” She begins to speak, but instead of finishing her sentence, she leans in to kiss you. It takes every ounce of strength you have to turn your head away and you can feel your heart thudding in your chest, so loud you wonder if she can hear it as your rejection makes her gasp & cry openly.

You can’t remember ever hating yourself more than in this moment. You explain, as simply as you can, why this can’t happen. “As long as my dad is my dad, I can’t be all you know, ‘out there,’ sexually speaking.” That’s always been the case, but with him locked up, you had some room to explore. Only that hadn’t lasted very long, and now you’re left to try and take it all back. But some things can’t be taken back.

“I’m not asking you to headline a gay pride parade. I’m asking you to hold my hand at the lock-in.” Her words bring tears to your eyes because you want that,  _ too, _ but you just can’t. You can’t and it hurts so much knowing that you might never get back to that. “He would never even know,” Sterling tries to tell you, but you know better.

He  _ would _ know. He’d find out. You live in a small shit town with small shit people who’ve got nothing better to do than stick their noses in each other’s business. If anything were to happen, he’d find out. “Rumors travel fast.”

“To prison?”

She hasn’t heard. How would she if you’d never told her? Your shining example of a father’s triumphant return from prison has left you the one shackled in a prison of your own making. You turn your head to catch her gaze again, wearing a sad smile, because you should’ve known better than to let yourself get too comfortable. How stupid you’ve been, how foolish. “He got cleared of his charges. He’s home,” and as you tell her the news, you can feel the mournful tear spilling down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away like it never existed. You  _ are _ grieving, actually, grieving the loss of Sterling and the happiness you’d just barely gotten a taste of. You can’t help but sound bitter, “And surprise, surprise, he’s not a big fan of the gays. I have to focus on my family, Sterling,  _ why _ don’t you understand that?”

You want her to understand that, you wish she could, but you’re different people and she just doesn’t get it.

_ “He’s...he’s out?” _

You manage a smile. Barely. “He’s got a lot of stuff he wants to explain. And he wants to...reconnect.” You can feel her pulling away from you completely and you can’t blame her. You want to believe him, but after all he’s done and how easily he’s gotten away with it all, you don’t know if reconnecting is even a real possibility. But you have to try. He’s your father and for better or worse, you love him. “He asked about you and Blair,” you blurt out after a moment, because you thought it was weird when it happened. “Which was  _ so _ random considering we’ve been sworn enemies since the fifth grade...but it made me so freaked out that he heard something already. But I was probably just being paranoid.”

_ “Oh,”  _ her lip trembles and her eyes are shiny with tears that are just sitting there, tears she won’t even let herself shed for you. You want nothing more than to put your arms around her and tell her that everything’s going to be okay. You want to tell her that you love her, because you’re pretty sure you do. But you do none of these things. You just sit there, doing nothing as your words sink and she curls into herself.

You’ve never felt like this before, but you’re pretty sure this is what people mean when they talk about being heartbroken. The worst part of all is that you’re breaking your own damn heart. Your feelings for her haven’t gone away, but you have to stop acting on them, at least. You’re over before the two of you ever really had the chance to start something. That might be for the best. Theoretically that  _ should  _ make it easier, right?

You look at her, holding on to the last ounce of hope you have left. “Maybe someday, though?” Your breath catches in your throat after you say the words, because in this moment, you have no idea what she’s going to say, and that terrifies you.

She nods her head. “Maybe,” she tells you, but from the look on her face, you don’t believe it. Sterling corrects herself quickly, muttering, “Actually, I don’t know,” and looking straight on as you watch her face, your heart shattering as you feel your hope being extinguished.

_ Now or never, _ that’s what she’s saying, and you  _ can’t _ do now. This sucks, because it’s the closest you’ve  _ ever  _ been to being truly happy, and she’d been happy too, and now you’re both miserable. All because of him, but mostly because of  _ you _ and your inability to make that leap. You’re overwhelmed with guilt, wanting to be better than this, but this is your _ life.  _ If your father finds out, life as you know it is over. You’ll probably be shipped off to some Christian boarding school and never see Sterling again. That’s if he doesn’t just decide to wash his hands of you completely and throw you out on the street. You just can’t take that chance. Not even for her.

Your head’s still swirling and there’s a dull aching in your chest but you’re pretty sure if you don’t go right now, you’re going to break down in front of her, and you can’t do that. It’ll just make things harder.

“Bye, Sterl,” you barely get the words out before you’re walking away from what might be the only girl you’ll ever love.

When you make it back inside the school, you slip into the bathroom, hiding in a stall so that you can cry in peace. You can’t ever remember being this sad and the tears, once you let them fall, they’re relentless. You’ve never been the best at emotions, mostly encouraged to push them all down, but things change. People change _ you, _ unlock things you’d thought were good and buried. Now you’re not sure how to stuff it all back down again.

Once you’re cleaned up and calmed down, you return to the lock-in, immediately noticing Luke’s absence. You remember Sterling standing outside and you can’t help but glance out the window, just in time to see her kiss him.  _ She  _ kisses him. You tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything, that she’s just hurt because of you and he’s the only home she’s ever known, but the jealousy bites at your tongue like venom and you feel the bile rising in your throat. Without a word you turn away, slip into your sleeping bag and squeeze your eyes closed, refusing to open them until morning. 

As you drift off to sleep, she’s all you can think about. You link both of your hands together, desperate to pretend for a moment that your other hand is hers.


End file.
